


The Storytelling Festival

by Crystal_Raindrops



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, He just wants sleep, Lila Rossi Redemption, M/M, Nathaniel is there for a second, hopefully cute, just a very dramatic storyteller, kind of, she was never evil in this au, very short, who makes good pies, you have no idea how much I love the idea of a nathmarc owned bookshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26826694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystal_Raindrops/pseuds/Crystal_Raindrops
Summary: Lila was, first and foremost, a storyteller. So was Marc. That did not mean they liked each other.
Relationships: Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33
Collections: MarcNath Fics!





	The Storytelling Festival

Lila was, first and foremost, a storyteller. So was Marc. That did not mean they liked each other. 

No one was really sure when the rivalry started, only that it was. This was especially inconvenient seeing as they lived next door, with Marc and his boyfriend running the bookshop and Lila working at the tavern. Apparently her food was good. Marc wouldn’t know as he’d never eaten it. 

Daily snickers and jabs aside, the most tense time of year for the two was the annual Storytelling Festival. Neither of them ever really won, that title always went to Chloe for some reason, but ranking higher than the other always seemed of the utmost importance. This fact was especially prominent in their minds now because the Autum Equinox, and therefore the festival, was only a week away. Lila had “won” the last two years in a row, and Marc wasn’t going to let her take a third. 

He spent hours and hours writing and rewriting his story, practicing and re-practicing his oration, and generally overworking himself until a very sleep-deprived Nathaniel forced him to go to bed each night. Both were relieved when, two days before the festival, Marc declared his story to be almost perfect. 

The rest of the town was busy too. Pies were baked, blankets were washed, decorations were put up, and a general excitement filled the air. Children were seen racing to and from the market, balancing various items no doubt sent for by their parents and the farmers worked double time, getting ready for the day off. People from the surrounding villages were starting to arrive and it wasn’t long before every tavern and inn was full. 

At long last, the day arrived. The contestants lined up behind a wooden stage that had been erected in the center of the market and the crowds gathered to watch. The stories ranged from heartfelt to extravagant, with one performer injuring their ankle while bouncing on stage and another having to leave in tears over their own story’s heartbreak. 

When it was Lila’s turn, she seemed to own the stage, dashing from one end to the other as she recounted her epic tale of a fox’s bravery in the face of hardship. The crowd cheered as she exited, then welcomed in Marc. 

His story was shorter than hers, lacking as much movement in the telling but no less impactful in its emotion. He spoke a of an epic love between the sun and the moon and a hero's quest to reunite them, dying so that they could occasionally have a moment, but often be within each other’s view. At the end, many seemed to be in tears. Marc bowed and exited. 

The winner of the competition was, surprising no one, Chloe but when it came time to chose a runner up, the judges simply couldn’t decide. Marc or Lila? Lila or Marc? Both had compelling stories. Both were told beautifully. Neither were likely to have the judges assassinated out of rage. It was decided that the title would be awarded to both of them. Hearing this, Lila and Marc shook hands with dignity, nodding stoically and accepting their reward of a free pie to share.

They’d beat each other next year. 

Lila and Marc, first and foremost, were storytellers. They held a mutual sort of grudging respect. That did not mean, however, that they liked each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This is my first fic in almost 6 years and while I may not be super proud of it, I’m very proud of myself for finishing it. Baby steps and all that right? Make sure to leave kudos if you enjoyed and have a nice day :)


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